especially when she went into a tirade about the unfashionable way Hannah dressed, or the fact that she was a bit too plump. But on that giant tally sheet sisters kept in their heads, she’d won this round hands down.
SWEDISH OATMEAL COOKIES
(Karen Lood)
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F., rack in middle position.
1 cup butter (2 sticks, ½ pound)
¾ cup white (granulated) sugar
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 cup flour (no need to sift)
2 cups oatmeal (I used Quaker Oats—Quick)
1 egg yolk
Melt the butter in a microwave safe bowl on HIGH for approximately 1½ minutes. Let it cool to room temperature. Mix in the white sugar.
Add the baking soda, flour, and oatmeal. Stir thoroughly.
Beat the egg yolk with a fork until it’s thoroughly mixed. Add it to the bowl and stir until it’s incorporated.
Grease (or spray with Pam or other nonstick cooking spray) a standard-sized cookie sheet. Make small balls of dough and place them on the cookie sheet, 12 to a sheet. Press them down with a fork in a crisscross pattern the way you’d do for peanut butter cookies.
Bake at 350 degrees F. for 10 to 12 minutes or until they’re just starting to brown around the edges. Let the cookies cool for a minute or two on the sheets and then transfer them to a wire rack to complete cooling.
Yield: approximately 5 dozen, depending on cookie size.
“Did I say thank you for the cookies?” Pam Baxter, the head of the three-woman judging panel, reached for another cookie.
“You did. About six times.”
“And did I?” Willa Sunquist asked, reaching in right after Pam.
“Seven times, I think.”
“What did you call them again?”
“Pineapple Delights. We got the idea from Lisa’s aunt, Irma Baker. She uses dried apricots too, but Lisa changed it to all pineapple because Herb’s crazy about pineapple.”
“Well it’s a cinch you’ll win the cookie competition!” Willa declared.
“No, I won’t. I run a bakery and coffee shop, and according to the rules, I’m not allowed to enter.”
“That’s a break for the rest of the contestants,” Willa said with a laugh. A nice-looking woman in her late twenties, Willa had just finished the school year as Pam’s classroom aide. The job hadn’t paid much, but Pam and George had given Willa a break by renting their basement apartment to her at a ridiculously low price so that she could finish her teaching degree at Tri-County College.
“Do you have any questions about the rules, Hannah?” Pam asked, closing her slim booklet titled, Guidelines for Judging Baked Goods.
“I don’t think so. The score sheets spell everything out. We just rate each entry on the variables, using a scale from one to ten.”
“And when we’re finished with an entry, Pam collects the score sheets,” Willa said. “At the end of the night, we add up the numbers, enter them on the master score sheet, and Pam authenticates it by signing her name.”
Pam glanced down at the sample score sheet that had come with the booklet. “Do you have any questions about the variables?”
“Just one,” Willa said with a frown. “What’s the difference between presentation and appearance?”
Pam gave her a quick smile. “I asked the same thing! Presentation is how the entry looks when we first see it on the plate or platter. Appearance is what it looks like when it’s sampled.”
“That makes sense,” Hannah said. “The decoration and frosting on a cake would be judged under presentation. We don’t judge appearance until we actually cut the cake and see how it slices and looks inside.”
“How about pies?” Willa asked, still looking a bit confused.
“We rate the top crust or the meringue under the presentation variable. And we don’t rate appearance until we actually dish out a slice and see if the custard slumps, or the berries are too juicy.”
“Got it,” Willa said. “How about breads and coffeecakes? That’s what we’re judging tonight.”
“If it’s been baked in a pan, we judge presentation on how evenly the top crust and the sides are browned. If it’s a coffeecake and it’s frosted or studded with fruit, we rate how that’s done. The same goes for sweet rolls, sticky buns, and doughnuts.”
“Okay.” Willa glanced down at her booklet again. “Muffins and quick breads would be exactly the same, but how do you judge cookies on presentation and appearance? It’s not like you slice them or anything.”
“Hannah?” Pam turned to her.
“It’ll be harder, but it can be done. Some cookies are frosted or decorated with sugar. That would be presentation. Others might be decorated with nuts and dried fruits. And if the cookie isn’t decorated at all, we’ll have to judge the presentation on how expertly the baker browned it in the oven.”
“How about appearance?” Pam asked, looking almost as puzzled as Willa.
“We’ll have to bite into the cookie or break it apart to judge appearance. If it has a filling, we can judge how well that’s placed in the cookie. If it’s chocolate chip, or chopped nuts, we can judge how many there are and whether the cookie might need more, or less. With cookies I think we’ll have to take it on a case-by-case basis.”
“Good thing you’re filling in as a judge,” Willa said. “Judging cookies sounds really tricky.”
“Maybe, but it’ll be fun. What time should we meet tonight?”
Pam glanced down at the schedule. “It has to be after six. That’s the cutoff for the day’s entries.” She turned to Willa. “You’re through at eight, aren’t you, Willa?”
“Yes. I can come right over here after the pageant. Once the curtain closes, the girls are free to go home.”
Hannah’s ears perked up. “Are you talking about the Miss Tri-County Beauty Pageant?”
“Yes, I’m the chaperone.”
“My
